


Cocoa

by Tasharene



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3398540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasharene/pseuds/Tasharene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost two years after defeating Corypheus, the peaceful life at Skyhold comes to an abrupt end. The Iron Bull has to face his own demons and rescue the redhead mage he loves... although 'love' is probably the last word he would dare to use.</p><p>This story will be told entirely from Bull's point of view and it presents how I envision his character. Please, treat it as my personal opinion and have the decency to simply move on if it is not to your liking. </p><p>The events take place long after the ending of the main game and the story was written before Trespasser was released.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

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* * *

 

She was gone. Snatched right from his arms, while he was busy looking the other way, too domesticated, lazy and laid back to remain cautious. He should have anticipated it. He should have known the Ben-hassrath wouldn't give up that easily on their alliance with the Inquisition. On the possibility to control and influence it.

He knew  _he_  wouldn't if he had still been one of them. He would have been able to find her on his own then, in any part of Thedas, in any sodden dungeon, any decrepit warehouse. The qunari spy network was vast and hardly anything could hide from them... as it was, they were the kidnappers and he was cut off from any connections, any networks. He was shunned and erased, an error in the system, long since corrected. A helpless and useless mistake, getting fat rolling in the Inquisition's luxury.

Searing pain erupted in his knuckles and spread along the massive arm when he smashed his fist against the wall. A serving girl passing by dropped her basket of laundry at that and cried out softly. He only glared at her and dragged himself back to the war room.

The advisors were still there, barely leaving the spacious chamber since the day the Inquisitor disappeared nearly two months ago. Crows kept flying in and out, bringing scraps of information by the dozen, but always too little to put them on the trail, reports always too vague to mean anything. And yet... the spy master never lost her resolve, shrewd mind piecing it all together until, at long last, she could look him in the eye and offer hope.

Evelyn had been taken to Seheron... which made little sense, all things considered, but there it was - the best lead they've had in weeks. The only fucking lead.

An hour later the Iron Bull rushed out of the keep, fully equipped for a very long travel, determined to not let anything stand in his way... except for a small band of misfits that, at some undefined point in his life, had become his extended family.

"If you think we'll let you go alone, you're a damned idiot, chief."

The Tal-vashoth breathed a sigh of relief but did not allow his glare to soften. Krem held it with a stoic face, however, undaunted and fierce as he stood in front of him, ready to argue if need be, blissfully unaware of just how much his commander had hoped he would rally the rest of the Chargers to help. Because Bull would never order any of them to risk their lives to fix his own failures, to come to the very hell he himself had run away from. This one time when he needed them the most, it had to be their own initiative.

"Keep up," he barked, brushing past his second-in-command.  _And pray it's not too late for her._

***

The land was still far below the horizon line, but the air had changed already. Humid and stuffy even despite the sea breeze, it clung to the skin and filled the lungs with choking aromas of rotting leaves and ripe fruits. A heady mixture that either made you sick or addicted. Like cocoa.

Bull's hands clenched to angry fists on the railing. The small ship swayed lazily on the waves, lulling the others into lethargic sleep. With weapons sharpened and oiled, supplies packed and ready, they had the luxury of rest, their minds free of memories of the place they headed for. Unburdened with the sounds of slaughter erupting as soon as the night fell, blades slashing throats in the fog, blood splattering on the ground, poisoned knives glinting in the sun as they flew to kill, to bury deep into the flesh and bring slow, painful death. Constant danger of ever present betrayal, never a chance to let the guard down, get even the briefest moment of respite...

"If you squeeze any harder, you'll crush that poor boat to pieces, chief." Krem stood by his side, eyes focused on the vast expanse of the sea before them. "You could stop swearing in qunlat, too. The sailors are half scared to death of you as it is."

Bull did not answer, the only reaction to the young man's words was a slight narrowing of the Tal-vashoth's eyes. Krem sighed.

"Chief, don't punch me for asking, but... why take her now? Why not earlier, before the Inquisition became the one power accepted by all the states and countries?"

"Pure convenience," the horned warrior murmured. "They didn't get their alliance, so they let us do the hard job of restoring order, because we had the only means for that. We got them their own mission accomplished and with no more losses or expenses on their side."

"And now the Inquisitor is too much of a powerful symbol for them to just let her be?"

"Exactly. They are a patient lot, and all they needed was to wait a bit until the Inquisition started slacking, feeding off its own victory. Just think, not even two years had passed and most of the soldiers returned to their homes. Cassandra became the divine, and many followed her to serve the new Chantry. The people who fought with us went their separate ways, too. Dorian, Varric, Sera, even Cole, even Blackwall. To be honest, Skyhold couldn't push away a fucking goat invasion now, let alone the Qunari if they chose to attack openly and swiftly. We may have all the damn armies at our disposal, but it would take weeks to rally them. Small wonder the Ben-hassrath got bold enough to sneak inside and kidnap Evelyn right from her own stronghold."

Krem shifted his feet a little. "Cullen, Josephine and Leliana never really left, though. Without them..."

"Yeah." A small wince slashed across Bull's face. "And here's Seheron. Welcome to hell, Cremisius Aclassi."

***


	2. Chapter 2

It was raining, because of course it was. Seheron, right? Huge drops of lukewarm water splashed against the canopy of leaves above them and tinkled dripping down onto the polished metal of Krem's pauldrons. Bull looked over his shoulder at the rest of the Chargers, his eyes never missing the slight apprehension in Stitches' posture, the way Dalish shivered in her soaked-through armor, and how Skinner snarled at the jungle around them, full aware that it could hide a dozen spies among all the usual things ready to kill... like tigers.

"That informant better not set us up," Krem grumbled, wiping sweat and rain off his face with the back of a hand. "Half an hour more in this weather and we'll all want to pee. Urgently."

Yes, if anyone could relieve a bit of the tension, it was the lieutenant. A small smile tugged at the corner of Bull's lips. "Next time we can fetch you a fancy Tevinter umbrella," he teased, nudging the human lightly.

"With all due respect, chief, there better not be a next time," Krem murmured and rolled his shoulders.

Before the Tal-vashoth had a chance to reply, Skinner rushed forward. Teeth barred and daggers in hands, she lunged into the bushes only to emerge moments later, not without a considerable effort dragging a shocked human with her.

"Honestly, after all the bad ale we've drunk together I would expect a warmer welcome," the man complained, shaking off the hands that held him. "And drier, too, come to think of it." He took his time adjusting the straps and folds of the complicated outfit that he wore, the task all the more difficult with the wet silk not being cooperative. When he looked up at the Iron Bull at last, a shameless grin graced his handsome features. "So, just like the good old days, right?"

Bull allowed himself a moment of surprise. "Well, shit, the last person I expected to be my informant here was you. I know we're only a stone's throw away from Minrathous, but... what the fuck are you doing on Seheron, Dorian?"

The mage chuckled. "Oh, this and that. Setting the world right, as per usual, I suppose. You know, Inquisition style. Although, as much as it pains me to admit it, I lack Evelyn's unique modus operandi."

"Are you even aware of the fact that she's been captured?" Bull growled, only barely managing to prevent himself from grabbing the man and shaking the grin off his face.

Dorian narrowed his eyes as anger flashed in them. "Of course I am aware, you brainless ox. Who do you think has provided Leliana with the lead that got you here, hmm?"

"Not to be a party pooper," Rocky interrupted, wringing water off his pitifully shapeless hood, "but perhaps we could move someplace dry for a bit?"

"And less exposed," Krem agreed, looking around nervously.

With a sigh, Bull clapped Dorian's arm and gestured for them all to move out. "Sorry, big guy. I just worry, you know."

"I know. I worry, too, imagine that. Follow me." The mage took point, leading them deeper into the jungle. "I have few friends, and Evelyn is among the best of them. I won't rest until I see her free and happy again. Preferably sitting on your shoulders and casting spells left and right, just like she did back in the Fallow Mire, remember?"

It was Bull's turn to let out a small chuckle at the memory. " _Fuck this bog, I just got a brand new armor, I am so not setting my foot in the water where corpses have been rotting for ages past,_ " he intoned in a high-pitch, doing a very bad job imitating the Inquisitor's voice. "Yeah. Good times."

"The best." Dorian chuckled stopping in front of a ruined Tevinter building, nearly completely covered by dense vegetation. He focused briefly and, energizing the large slabs of dark stone blocking their way, revealed a narrow entry leading inside. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"Nice." Bull whistled his approval at the sight of the surprisingly cozy interior. Perfectly dry and spotlessly clean, the stone chamber was big enough to house them all. Perhaps not comfortably, but close to that. There was a thick carpet on the floor, and an ottoman by one wall, accompanied by a tall bookcase overflowing with tomes and scrolls. On the opposite side of the room, an unmade bed and a desk that had seen better times completed the image of a scholar's quarters. "I suspect you keep this whole and not leaking by magic, right?"

Dorian nodded, hastily throwing a blanket over the crumpled bedsheets. "Rather fancy application of several spells, if I dare so myself. Including a cloaking one of my own design. I camped for several days in Hinterlands, and I promised myself to never again go through such a traumatic experience. Anyway, make yourselves at home, we won't be going anywhere for a while, so there's plenty of time to discuss details."

***

"Here's what I know," the mage unrolled a large, detailed map of the northern part of the island and placed it on the floor. They all gathered around it, holding the corners to prevent the parchment from rolling back while Dorian pointed to an area deep within the forest.

"There is an ancient ruined fortress here, not unlike this watchtower we're currently hiding in. Come to think of it, they were probably parts of the same line of fortifications back in the days. But no matter. The fort is pretty much a crumbled playground for all kinds of trees and vines, you'd go right past it without even noticing, but its dungeons remain largely intact and parts of them are very much habitable."

Bull shook his head at that. "Damn, when I was here, we were told they were all useless, flooded by some underground stream."

"Perhaps they were, who knows," the Tevinter shrugged. "If you have enough mages at your disposal, it's not that difficult to patch up all the holes and dry the walls. They're made of stone, after all, not fancy plaster and frescos."

"So, I assume they keep her there?"

"That would be my guess, yes." Dorian brought a dusty tome from the desk and opened it on a marked page. "This is a very old copy of a treatise on fortifications that I had brought in from Minrathous. The floor plan you can see drawn here is how the dungeons looked back in the days when the fort was actually functional. It's eerily similar to Ath Velanis in design, I'm sure you are familiar with that one, Bull."

The Tal-vashoth nodded. "Yeah, there's been some shit going on there with magisters and assaults, but I wasn't part of it, so I know no details. Was busy on the other end of the island at the time."

"Understandable." The mage put the book away. "So, most of the dungeon passages are probably collapsed now and aren't inter-connected, thus we need to find the right one to go in. Fortunately, one of my people should be able to tell me the location of the entrance the Qunari use."

Bull folded arms on his massive chest and quirked an eyebrow. "Are you trying to tell me that you have your own spy network here?"

"I'm not _trying_ to tell you anything," Dorian replied coolly, never lifting his gaze from the map. "You didn't really expect me to traipse through the jungle all by my lonesome, did you? I have, in fact, managed to put together a rather handy group. Best Tevinter training, they could match Leliana's people or your Ben-hassrath easily."

"Will you be insufferable if I say that I am impressed?"

The necromancer chuckled. "When have I not been insufferable about my own virtues, exactly?"

"Point taken." The horned warrior heaved a sigh. "So we wait until your guy gives us intel and then we march. Tonight."

"No. Not tonight, and most probably not the night after, either."

"No fucking way I'm waiting a single day longer now that I'm so close! You don't know what she's going through in there, and it's been almost two months already, if she is still alive at all..." More words refused to come and only a low, angry growl escaped Bull's throat.

"She is most certainly alive," the mage assured. "They took over the ruins mere days before she was kidnapped, just enough time to prepare everything for her arrival, right? They moved a number of people to and off the island in the meantime, and guards only began patrolling the area after Evelyn disappeared. Coincidence? I think not. The place had been prepared to house an important and powerful prisoner, and they have not abandoned it yet. That's all the proof I need, and I refuse to take any other option under consideration."

Bull wasn't exactly willing or able to continue, gesturing for Krem to take over the conversation. With a nod, the lieutenant cleared his throat. "Can you explain why we can't make our move tonight? Including you, there's eight of us here, we have a strong, well balanced group. If we pace ourselves well, we can take on pretty much anything. Where is the problem?"

Dorian took his time answering. "We could take down the guards and probably most of the staff inside without major losses, that's true, but... there is a high ranking official currently visiting. Arrived this morning with a full entourage, and for that lot we would need a small army. It's another proof that Evelyn is still alive, however, and it can only mean they have some extensive political plans for her. Maybe to trade her in for something... information, influence... I don't know, I'm not the Qunari expert here, but I do know that they would not have kept her alive that long if their only goal had been to get rid of the Inquisitor."

"They want her to convert. So they can parade her around as a trophy. Fuck this," Bull roared, jumping to his feet. "I've been sitting on my ass doing nothing long enough. Now that I know where she is, I won't--"

"You want to actually go there and have both of you killed, yes?" Dorian stood as well and glared up at the warrior, blocking the path when he turned towards the exit. "You charge in, they see danger, they kill her. I know you are not exactly a stealthy group, but if we want this to work, we need to avoid open confrontation. At least until the moment we locate her and can protect her in there."

With surprising agility, the Tal-vashoth spun on his heel and stalked to the other end of the room. If that infuriating mage kept holding him back...

"He's right, chief." Krem's voice rang clear in the silence that had taken over the room.

"I know he's fucking right!" Bull replied, words barely distinguishable in a furious growl. Closing eyes, he tossed his head back and took a deep breath. This was not the time for anger. Not yet. Another breath and the painfully tense muscles relaxed. Not completely, no. That had been a feat they hadn't managed since Evelyn disappeared. Enough to let him keep cool for the sake of others, though. It would have to do. "Doesn't mean I have to fucking like it, all right?"

***

When Bull woke up, he was strangely unaware of the passage of time. He could swear that he had just stretched on his bedroll in the corner of Dorian's room, mere moments ago. It could not be right, though, judging by the fact that two thirds of the candles were gone in the wall sconces. He stretched and yawned, feeling more rested that he had in days. Only then did the angry voices register in his mind. Sitting up, he looked around the chamber.

Right smack in the middle, Krem and Dorian were having a shouting match, snarling at each other in tevene, both gesticulating fiercely. Along the walls, at a safe distance, the rest of the Chargers were sitting comfortably on their bedrolls, watching the two with pure amusement reflecting on their faces. Stitches held still with a packet of herbs he was about to crush into a cup in hand, Dalish only pretended to be busy fixing something in her armor while her shoulders shook with laughter. Skinner kept nudging Grim as she whispered something to his ear while cackling gleefully. Witnessing their lieutenant so pissed off was sure a rarity and a sight to behold, and only Rocky remained unaware, snoring heartily with his back turned to the whole scene.

"The fuck is going on?" Bull asked politely, gathering himself from the floor to approach his quarreling friends. "None of us speaks that hissy language of yours, so it would be nice if you explained, yes?"

"Chief!" Krem's eyes went wide. "Are you all right?"

The horned warrior tilted his head and made a face. "Why the heck would I not be?"

"See? I told you!" Dorian cut in with a triumphant smile. "If you weren't such a hopeless mother hen we wouldn't be having this pleasant conversation. Now I'm going to have a monumental headache after this." Turning to Bull, the mage pointed an accusatory finger at the other human. "He threatened to kill me, just so you know."

"He cast a sleep spell on you, chief, just so you know," Krem countered, swatting Dorian's hand away.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." The Tal-vashoth muttered a curse and stepped between them. He turned to the mage first. "It's nice, made me feel good, but don't ever do that again without my permission, and you, Krem, have a little faith in our friends. Dare say Dorian has earned your trust many times over. Now apologize to each other and shut the fuck up already."

"Don't forget to kiss after you apologize!" Dalish added with a chortle. "Or it won't mean anything. It's an old elvhen tradition, you know."

"Thank the Maker I am not Dalish," Krem grumbled and padded back to his bedroll to sit there heavily, his armor clanking.

Dorian watched the young man, allowing himself a small chuckle. "I think I rather like that tradition, actually."

Bull groaned. "You better tell me how long I was out and what went on in the meantime."

"Well, it just so happens that we're almost good to go," the necromancer informed him with a sly grin. "Perfect calculation, wouldn't you say? I'm that good with my spells, yes."

***


	3. Chapter 3

One last check of equipment. One last deep breath before there was no turning back to make sure everything had been taken care of... Bull had never feared battle. He wasn't reckless, no, only an idiot would be in his line of work, but this time was different. This time failure not only meant injuries to him and his subordinates, but also certain death to the woman he swore to protect. His little redhead mage.

This time, the Iron Bull was scared shitless.

"Please, hurry. We can not reach her anymore." The air by his side shimmered and a familiar figure of a tall young man appeared in a cloud of wispy smoke. "They cut her away from us. We can't protect her. Go. Now. You have to hurry before it's too late."

Thank the fucking gods, that everyone was used to Cole by then, or they would be screeching like a bunch of chantry sisters, no doubt. "The fuck are you doing here?"

"We want to help." The spirit shot him a disdainful glare from under the rim of his ridiculously big hat. He actually, really glared. Bull would be proud if he wasn't so damned anxious.

"Yeah, figured that much." The warrior briefly considered asking when Cole had decided to refer to himself in majestic plural, but there was no time to waste. "We know where the entrance is, but can you show us the way inside?"

"Yes." The spirit vanished, leaving them all just a little stumped.

"I suppose it's safe to assume he'll show up when we need him," Dorian stated, extinguishing all lights in the chamber with a flick of his wrist and uncovering the entrance. "It seems he's been with Evelyn for a while now... I wish he had bothered to inform me about it. Would certainly make things easier here."

"Let's just go, all right?" Bull growled and nudged the mage forward.

They plunged into the moonless night, letting the jungle swallow them whole. Any sounds their armor could accidentally make were mercifully muffled by the cacophony of cries and whistles from the countless nocturnal birds and insects. One of very few blessings of Seheron, and its greatest curse at the same time, as it provided the same advantage to both sides of the conflict.

When they reached the ruined keep faintly lit by a few torches, Bull split the group into pairs, directing each of them to take care of one guard. He could only hope that the intel was accurate and there were indeed only four of them in the area.

Following Dorian, who had for once dressed in all black and with no excessive silks flapping around, Bull flanked the Qunari patrolling the crumbled battlements near the entrance. The mage distracted the guard with a spell, allowing the Tal-vashoth to swoop in and break his neck without a sound other than the sickening crunch of bone. Once he lowered the lifeless body to the ground, Bull looked around for the other Chargers.

A glint of a dagger in one corner and the unmistakable sound of a head rolling on the stone in the other, indicated that Krem, Stitches, Rocky, and Dalish had completed their assignments. Skinner and Grim didn't seem to have reached their target yet, though, which had Bull's gut in a painful twist of concern. Growling, he exchanged looks with Dorian, and headed towards the remaining guard's post.

He caught only a glimpse of the familiar elven body laying in a heap on the grass when a Qunari warrior in full armor crashed into him, nearly knocking him down. The Tal-vashoth managed to block and hold the attack, but moments later two more Qunari joined the fight, charging from a hideout around the corner. Bull swore under his breath. Bad intel, sloppy preparation, he should have been more wary. Fuck this all.

Before the necromancer had a chance to come to his rescue, a large, growling shape lunged from the darkness, jumping straight for the newcomers. The beast tore the closest attacker's throat instantly and pinned the other one to the ground to have him meet the same fate. Shaking himself out of shock, Bull wasted no time. Using the element of surprise, he dispatched the last guard with ridiculous ease.

Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl after that. The horned warrior did not move, watching as the extraordinarily large, pitch-black wolf in front of him licked blood off its muzzle and slowly turned to him. A pair of eyes flashed with intensely green glow as they focused on Bull, their intelligent stare that of a wise man, not a mindless beast.

The Tal-vashoth blinked rapidly, but the wolf did not disappear as he had expected. "Thanks, I guess," Bull murmured at last, not quite sure whether his own eyes were deceiving him or not. The scene did seem like the result of one too many blows to the head, to be honest. The moment the sound of his words broke the silence, the wolf gracefully jumped off the Qunari corpse it had been standing on, and vanished among the trees.

"Are you all right?" Dorian rushed past, dropping to his knees by Skinner's side and turning the elf over to check her injuries. Grim was already crawling towards them, pressing a hand to his side and grunting in pain. Bull helped him up, heaving a relieved sigh when the only damage the man had sustained turned out to be a few broken ribs and a monumental bruise blooming on his jaw. The elf remained out cold, however, and it did not bode well to have two of the team disabled at the very damn start of the mission. Swearing out loud this time, the warrior glared at the necromancer.

"Remind me to strangle that spy of yours later," he growled, but Dorian did not deign the threat with a reply.

Once the rest of the Chargers had joined them, Stitches whipped up a small vial from his pack and poured the contents into the unconscious elf's mouth. She came awake with a filthy curse, throwing herself at the healer, ready to strangle. Fortunately, Krem had anticipated that and held Skinner still until she calmed down. Only then did Stitches manage to take a better look at the nasty wound at the back of her head that kept bleeding profusely.

"Good as new," he announced a while later when the ointments and bandages had been applied to the injury, supported by a weak healing spell from Dalish - the only one in her otherwise destructive repertoire.

Bull was not convinced. "Grim, Skinner, you two will stay behind and guard our backs. No discussion, damnit. Gotta make sure there are no more surprises like this. The rest, move out, no fucking time to waste."

***

"They want to kill her mind," Cole spoke out of the shadows the moment they had descended into the main corridor of the dungeon. "It glows and terrifies. But tempts, too. She wants the fear and pain to stop."

 _So that's why the high ranking visitor showed up the day before. To approve the use of the last resort means._ Bull felt something inside of him shatter. A scalding hot mixture of dread and anger spilled, dripping all over his insides, flaring up to his throat to constrict and render him speechless.

"Re-educators," he rasped at last. "Qamek."

"Yes." The spirit disappeared and, moments later, they heard a strangled cry ahead of them, followed by a muffled thud of a heavy body slumping to the ground. "It's safe to move on now," he offered, returning to the Tal-vashoth's side.

The passage seemed endless as they trudged along, dispatching the guards one by one and, with Cole's help, managing to sneak by larger groups of Qunari residing in the side rooms. All that time, the steady burn in Bull's chest demanded blood, vengeance, action... fortunately, he had enough sanity left in him to keep himself on a leash. For now. For her.

"Pain claws at the flesh, hunger tears apart the insides, thirst chases sanity away... _katoh!"_ Words tumbled from Cole's lips in a frantic cadence of the panicked mind that had formed them, the spirit's voice marked by emotions that were not his own. "Please, I don't know your language... just this one word, you must know what it means... _katoh_... I can't, no more... please, _katoh_! He would stop, he would never... why can't you... why do you sneer in disgust... why... _katoh_... please.. make it stop..."

Bull skidded to a halt. Turning away from his companions, he breathed in heavy, ragged gasps, his fists clenched so tight that he could feel the joints in his fingers crunch. Red haze at the edge of his vision threatened to take over, promising to drown his own pain in mindless slaughter... and ruin what was perhaps the one last chance Evelyn had to survive.

He could still hear Dorian scolding the spirit, but the hushed conversation failed to register in his mind. The Tevinter's voice was not the one ringing in his ears at that moment.

Twice he had heard the watchword break the steady rhythm of quickened breathing and quiet moans. Twice he had stopped even before Evelyn finished speaking it. Twice he had held her in his arms - tender, soothing, caressing - making sure she emerged from the experience stronger, never weaker. Stronger with the pain endured, stronger with the trust unbroken, stronger with... and they used even that against her, because there was no doubt in Bull's mind that the re-educators knew damned good and well what had been going on in the Inquisitor's bedroom late at nights.

"Chief, we should move on." A flask was pressed into his trembling hand, but Krem knew better than to touch Bull directly or stand too close when he was on the verge of giving in. And Bull was grateful, even if he did not manage to show it to his lieutenant with anything other than a snarl. Two long swigs of excruciatingly strong alcohol were enough to restore a shred of clarity to the horned warrior's mind. A roll of shoulders, a pop in the ever-aching arm, and he was ready to go, kick the last door open and take his woman away from that wretched place.

As it turned out, he was not ready to actually _see_ her. At all.

***


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the single most painful and most difficult piece I have ever written in my entire life.
> 
> That is all.

The cell was absolutely filthy. The stench of concentrated magebane, sickness and unwashed body hit them like a punch in the gut the moment they opened the door. Remnants of a pile of straw were rotting away by one of the walls, mixed with bodily waste. Bull cringed. Not unusual for the re-educators to play the personal hygiene card, promising the future convert a warm bath, fresh clothes, and the luxury of privy under the Qun.

He took a small step inside, eyes stubbornly focusing on details, not quite willing to acknowledge the monstrosity of the scene before them... and yet, he almost did not notice a small figure curled up into a little ball in the corner. What was left of her favorite Skyhold outfit, was now torn and tattered around the cuts made by a sharp blade, the fabric nearly colorless, stiff with dried blood. Her lush, fiery-red hair was mercilessly chopped off, right by the scalp. The few longer strands that remained after sloppy cutting, were miserably tangled and matted.

The Tal-vashoth gestured for the others to guard the entrance and dared a few more steps ahead. The angry growl in his throat was gradually choked into a silent howl as he approached the prisoner, stopping close enough to see purplish bruises that marred her skin, so pale now that it seemed to glow in the dim light from the corridor. Her wrists and ankles were covered in festering wounds, no doubt left by restraints used during interrogations. Around her waist, a wide, solid-metal girdle and a thick chain attached to it, were weighing her weakened body down, making each breath and each move into a struggle. When Bull crouched by her side at last, the woman stirred, instinctively covering her head with an alarmingly thin arm, giving him a good view of the long, graceful fingers, all mercilessly broken, turned into a twisted mess of trembling pain.

Too much! It was too fucking much to bear, even for him. The warrior snarled, every single muscle in his massive body strained, demanding to maim, dismember, mutilate, destroy... to pay back for all the hurt that had been done to the one he was sworn to protect.

Instead, an unexpected swell of pride for her swept over him, momentarily chasing the scarlet fury away once he realized that it was not a defeat for the Inquisitor. Not by a long shot. Her body was wrecked, her pride crushed, but she remained alive. Not a conquered convert to the Qun, but an Andrastian true to what she believed in. And, most of all, a mage who had not succumbed to demons despite the pain and torture she was forced to endure. She was still his brave, feisty redhead - broken, but victorious. Always a survivor.

"Evelyn. _Kadan_."

She shuddered and looked up. The large, mossy green eyes took in the looming figure by her side and closed instantly. Bull wasn't sure whether she had recognized him or not but, ultimately, it stopped being important the moment he saw her soft lips crudely sewn shut with a thick thread. When he heard the inhuman cry that bubbled in her throat, strangled and broken, unable to find release. When she frantically crawled away to squeeze herself into the corner, seeking shelter from him in the cold, hard stone. When her bladder failed, releasing the fresh stench of urine into the air.

With low, menacing growl, Bull stood and reached for his axe. The last of the restraints had snapped, the beast inside him stirred, ready to pounce. Pushing past his shocked companions, he left the cell. A flash of crimson blinded him to all other colors, pulsing along the frantic beat of his heart, mercifully taking away the pain, the loss, and the misery, replacing them with the one feeling that he didn't have to learn, one that had always been an inseparable part of him.

Rage.

He didn't see Dalish as she rushed towards the Inquisitor, fingers glowing with her meager healing magic, and Stitches right behind her with his potions. He didn't notice the others, charging to battle, joining in without a moment of hesitation. He couldn't hear Dorian swearing in Tevene as the mage followed him back into the corridor, staff in hand and the fiercest spells shimmering around him like a fade armor made of nightmares.

The world had shattered around the Iron Bull. He ceased to exist, giving way to the furious beast that demanded blood.

***

The waves of red had subsided as adrenaline gave way to exhaustion. It took time and considerable effort from the mind, but his body had eventually acknowledged the burn of tired muscles and the sting from several shallow wounds he had acquired. It was over. The Tal-vashoth and those who fought at his side were the only ones left alive, worn out but triumphant as they stood among the mutilated, still twitching corpses of the Qunari. The ultimate conclusion to the choice he made years ago on the rocky cliff of the Storm Coast.

Focusing on slowing down his breathing and calming the heart that kept pounding furiously against his ribs, Bull finally understood why Evelyn had always been so proud of him for that decision. With clarity he failed to achieve before, the warrior realized that he was never just a number in the system. He had always seen more, felt more, wanted more, but he was a prisoner of the Qun. From the moment he was born, he was taught to live by _their_ rules, told that everything outside was wrong and in need of correction. Never knowing an alternative, he was unable to break free until someone helped him make the first step in the right direction. Until circumstance forced him to admit to himself at last what really mattered to him. People. Friends. Family. 

"Next time, let us regroup before you charge off, you big ass," Krem scolded and swayed a little, struggling to catch a full breath, but smiling anyway.

Bull did not reply. He dropped the bloodied axe to the ground and headed back towards the small cell where all of his nightmares had been turned into reality. He was not allowed to enter, however. Cole blocked the way, pressing a single fingertip between his horns and flooding his mind with gruesome images, searing his nerves with the pain and fear accumulated during weeks of torture.

"This is how she sees you now, you can not be here, you should not be here," the spirit warned. "You are one of _them_."

It took combined effort of Krem and Rocky to keep Bull from brutally forcing his way back into the chamber. "I am not one of those bastards! I am Tal-vashoth! She knows that! She knows!"

"Unfortunately, right now, it's not about who you are, but about how you look." Dorian approached, wiggling his glowing fingers in front of him. "A small paralysis spell, for just a few minutes until we are ready to take Evelyn out of here." With that explanation, he released the magic and it wrapped itself around the horned warrior in a cold, repulsive embrace.

Bull could only watch as they scattered around, seeking something that could be used to cover Trevelyan for the transport. It was Stitches who found the Qunari's sleeping quarters and returned with several thick blankets. The massive chain that kept the prisoner leashed proved to be a challenge without the Tal-vshoth's strength but, eventually, they managed to find a weaker link and crush it with the help of an ice spell.

There were tears in Dorian's eyes when he placed a tender hand on Evelyn's hairless head to put her to sleep. There was revered silence when they all helped Krem carefully pick up the torn shred of a human being that was once the mighty Inquisitor. His strong arms gentle, the young man carried her away, towards the exit... and only then did the immobilizing spell wore off, allowing Bull to follow. At a distance.

***


	5. Chapter 5

Skyhold ale didn't get any better over time. If anything, it got worse. It tasted like crushed glass mixed with spider venom. Which was a good thing. A damn good thing.

"You'll get blind form it," Krem sat next to Bull by the bar, unsuccessfully trying to mask the worried tone in his voice.

"I'm half blind anyway, small loss," the horned warrior grumbled, taking a long swig. It was the first time in all the years they had known each other that Bull brought it up in such a way, and he immediately regretted it, seeing as the human by his side winced slightly. Silence settled between them, heavy and uncomfortable. "Get the rest of the team ready. We're moving out in a couple of days. I got us a job in the Coastlands, near Highever."

Krem snorted. "Why not in Anderfels? That's even farther away from here. You know, since you want to run away, do it properly, at least."

Clay shattered to pieces in the Tal-vashot's hand. "I am not running away."

"Then what?"

Bull swept the remnants of the mug to the floor, ignoring the bartender's scornful look. "Then we find another job."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

"Do what you want, chief." Sighing, Krem rolled his shoulders. "I'm staying."

Bull laughed at that, the dry, cheerless chuckle rolled across the taproom. "Sure, you have a reason. But while you're fooling around with Harding, I'm the loser sitting on my ass and pretending that I don't exist. I'm fucking done with that."

"It's only been a fortnight. The Inquisitor can't even stand up on her own yet. Give it time, chief. Just give it time."

"Time. Sure. How much of it, though? A whole fucking life?" Bull stood and headed for the exit. At the doorstep he swayed, one of his horns hitting the door frame with a miserable sound. He did not look back. "I miss her, Krem."

He left before the lieutenant had a chance to reply.

***

"There you are!" Dorian huffed, catching up with him on the battlements a couple of days later. "So, I heard you're planning to leave?"

Bull rolled his eyes and stopped to glare at the mage. "I got a job."

"Ah. Because you're so short of money that you can't afford a whetstone for your blades, yes?" The Tevinter glared back, unfazed by the silent disapproval radiating from his friend. "What about Evelyn?"

Feeling as his composure cracked, the warrior let out a weary sigh. "I can't even see her. All I know about her is what you and others tell me. I can very well get that info in a letter while I am far away from here, not putting her in danger of accidentally looking at me and fainting in panic."

Dorian tilted his head, eyes wide. "Are you seriously blaming her for reacting like that?"

"What? Fuck, of course not. But I can't quite blame myself, either, and I lost her anyway. There's nothing for me here anymore. I will always be a reminder of what she had gone through, every time she looks at me. What's the point in staying and dragging this on?"

"I'm probably the last person to give anyone a relationship advice, but--" The mage hesitated, pacing back and forth as he tried to find the right words. "Shouldn't you give her at least a chance to decide? Shouldn't it be a choice both of you make? Regardless of how she reacts to your horns, if you go now, you will be abandoning her."

The air shimmered and Cole appeared in a puff of smoke. "He would never leave me alone in the dark to cry." With closed eyes, he turned towards the Inquisitor's tower in the distance. A small grimace twisted his face as he let another wave of her memories flow through him. "He's not like you, filthy savages. Don't you dare speak of him like you know him, you bastards. His single horn is worth ten of you."

"Thank you Cole," Dorian whispered after silence fell. "That proved my point rather nicely."

The spirit ignored him, stepping closer to the horned warrior and looking up. "You're hurting, the Iron Bull. I want to help."

"So it's no longer _we_ , hmm?" Bull asked, trying to draw the attention away from himself.

Cole blinked. "She is strong enough to resist demons now, and I am enough to help." With that, he vanished.

"Damn me if I ever understand how he works."

Dorian cleared his throat. "Point is, she fought for you. They tortured her, they used all their clever interrogation techniques on her and she still defended you. Believed in you. Fiercely, I'd say."

"Fat good it does me if she can't be anywhere near me without pissing herself. Ultimately, they won, can't you see it? They took her away from me."

" _Kaffas!_ Would you pull your giant horned head out of your giant grey arse for a moment and think about her instead of pitying yourself like a robbed tax collector? Did you even hear what I said a moment ago?"

"You so damn sure it's myself I think about when I plan to go? You think it's easy for me to leave her behind? Fuck, it's worse than turning myself in to re-educators had been, worse than becoming a Tal-vashoth, fucking worse! But I'd rather go through that than be something that ruins her peace by just being around."

"Well, aren't you a sweetie."

"Dorian, if you don't shut up I will destroy your profile, I swear."

"Come with me, you big, stupid ox."

To Bull's surprise, the necromancer led him straight to Evelyn's room. They paused by the door, the mage sneaking ahead to check on her before letting the warrior inside. "A body heals faster while sleeping, so we're giving her a mixture that brings deep, but dreamless sleep. If we're quiet, she won't wake."

The room was flooded with moonlight, the eerie glow making the scene seem unreal. When Bull entered, his heavy footsteps muffled by carpeting, an Inquisition's resident healer gathered herself from the couch where she'd been dozing off. Offering a quick nod, she left to give them a bit of privacy.

Careful to not cast a shadow on the sleeping woman, Bull approached the bed, relief washing over him at the sight of Evelyn resting there. The last image of her, the one he had carried with him every waking hour since Seheron, was that of a battered, broken shadow of the person he knew. Even though it had only been three weeks since then, she looked more like herself already. Cheeks a little fuller, hair clipped evenly, bruises nearly faded under the freckled skin, and her lips - those delicious lips that always tasted like the sweetest wine - were parted slightly, miraculously unmarred by any scars from the crude stitching.

"Take your time," Dorian whispered and stepped out to the balcony, his white robe flowing gracefully on the soft wind.

Gratitude for the necromancer had nearly overwhelmed the tall warrior, but the warm feeling was gone the moment Bull saw the Inquisitor's palms. Still bandaged tightly in several layers of silk, they made him realize that every single finger had to be broken again and then set properly before the mages could start the healing process with their spells. Pain had not ended for her the moment they carried her away from the stinking prison cell... nor would it end for weeks, if not months to come.

As if sensing the unvoiced anger that had flared up in him, Evelyn stirred in her sleep, breaking the silence with a small whimper. Bull hid downstairs by the exit long before she opened her eyes. He held his breath as the sound of her voice brought a shiver down his spine, but... she was calling for Dorian. Well, of course she was.

Silently, the Iron Bull opened the door and sent the healer up to assist the necromancer.

He needed a drink. Crushed glass mixed with spider venom sounded just about right.

***


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny chapter in preparation for the grand finale next time...

Two weeks had passed and Dorian kept helping the Iron Bull creep into the Inquisitor's room while she slept, so that the warrior could just stare at her with puppy dog's eye... and fool himself that it was enough for him.

Quite obviously, the Chargers never showed up for the job in the Coastlands. Nor did they take the offer to escort an Orlesian noble to Denerim, hunt down a man-eating giant bear in Hinterlands, or deal with a nest of lurkers in the Hissing Wastes. The offers kept coming, though, as if to taunt them back into the market. Bull knew damn good and well that he couldn't keep them all in Skyhold forever, only doing trivial assignments in the keep's vicinity that did not require extensive travels. It was time to move on.

One late, rainy night, he gathered his inner circle in the empty tavern and treated them to a round of drinks. Then another. And one more. Selfishly, because it was he who needed his head to be much lighter for what he was about to do. It took all four caskets of mead he had the barkeep import especially for that occasion before he was ready.

Timing his speech in between deafening strikes of lightning, the Iron Bull had disbanded the Chargers... and they all laughed in his face.

"Fuck you." Skinner was the first to speak in her usual, scathing tone. "I ain't going anywhere."

"If I was a mage, ser, I'd burn your horns off with fire," Dalish added with an eyeroll.

Grim rumbled his agreement with the elves and stoically accepted an appreciative punch in the arm from Stitches. "What they said," the healer muttered.

Refilling his mug, Rocky made a show of suppressing an overdone shudder. "I wouldn't kick a dog out in this weather and you want _us_ to go? Nope, not happening."

Krem simply stared for a long a while. His warm eyes remained narrowed, but only until he managed to rein the frustration and disappointment in, and cover them with his trademark sarcastic humor.

"Seriously, chief, I've always known you were just a big foolish mountain of horny muscle, but this is a new low for you. No wonder they kicked you out of the Ben-hassrath." The Tevinter held his commander's stare without a flinch as a teasing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "What, too soon?"

"Nah." It took the Iron Bull a moment to find his voice again. "Thanks. You know, I wouldn't be myself without you, all of you."

They groaned almost in unison at that, not used to such displays of affection from him. He could see they were just as relieved as he was, however, and as committed to him as he had been to them. A heavy burden that was giving his shoulders some serious pain for the past couple of weeks had disappeared, and he could breathe a little easier. Just a little. 

Bull did not go to see Evelyn that night, but he knew he would be back in the moonlit room, craving more like an addict craved another dose of lyrium. 

***


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter is my pride and joy. For the first time in Maker knows how long, I managed to write a scene exactly how I envisioned it in my head. Not only that, the scene actually works, conveying precisely the emotions I wanted to put in there. Enjoy!

The smell of hot cocoa tickled pleasantly when Bull stepped onto the walkway leading to the Inquisitor's quarters.

He inhaled deeply, remembering the day when he brewed the very first cup to share with her. Evelyn took a small, careful sip of it at first and winced, the taste turning out to be too sharp for her. When he failed to hide the disappointed look on his face at that, she bravely gave the drink another try, though, her pink tongue darting out briefly to catch a droplet of the thick liquid at the corner of her mouth. Shooting him an impish look from under her eyelashes, she grabbed a bowl of sugar from the table, dumped two spoonfulls of white crystals into the mug and stirred vigorously. He watched her with arms folded on his chest, unsure whether he was more aroused or curious about her opinion on his favorite beverage. When, at last, she deemed the mixture ready and took one more generous sip, his curiosity lost the battle with the heat that had pooled in his belly. The things her delighted purr could do to him...

"Go on ahead." Dorian's words brought him back to the present when the mage descended the stairs and gave him the usual nudge, indicating that Evelyn was asleep and it was safe for him to enter.

Step by step Bull climbed up, wincing slightly when his knee popped a little too loud, the sound disrupting the soothing whisper of the wind outside. Once again feeling like an intruder but unable to deny himself the only opportunity to be around her, the warrior finally stepped onto the carpet... and froze, seeing the Inquisitor awake and out of the bed.

She was standing by the fireplace, holding a steaming mug of cocoa in a trembling hand. He never had much problem reading her, and this time, it was even easier than usual. Evelyn's shoulders were slightly hunched, as if expecting pain to come and break her all over again at any moment. Her fingers closed around the cup in a white knuckled grip threatened to shatter the clay to pieces. Worst of all, she couldn't make herself look at him.

Taking a small step backwards, Bull tossed a puzzled look towards the necromancer, who was still standing by the exit, waiting for his reaction. "It was her idea, actually," the Tevinter offered with an encouraging nod and left, closing the door behind him.

Struggling to shake the surprise off, Bull focused on the woman again. Well, he _tried_ to focus, catch even the smallest signs sent by her body so he could react accordingly without frightening her, but... the dancing flames had revealed her silhouette under the sleeping gown: the elegant rounding of the hips and the swell of full breasts that moved in time with her quickened breathing. With a silent curse, the warrior scolded himself for the stir of arousal that had flashed through him at the sight, mercifully there and gone, leaving only shame in its wake.

When he made a hesitant step forward, the woman released a shuddering breath and took a sip of cocoa. A completely unsuccessful attempt to cover her anxiety. It took a moment before she managed to swallow the aromatic liquid, another clear hint that she was not ready for this confrontation... not yet, probably not ever.

" _Kadan_..."

The mug slipped from her fingers, landing safely on the carpeted floor, unbroken. The intense smell of cocoa filled the room as it spilled into a small puddle at Evelyn's feet. She watched the brownish drink soak into the colorful wool and her lips quivered as she sucked in a quick gasp.

"Please."

The word was breathed more than it was spoken, but he heard it with all the intensity of a thunder - the first word she had spoken to him in weeks... and it was just a plea, probably to leave and never return, never intrude on her sanctum again. While he balled his hands to fists, she laced her fingers together, twisting them and no doubt causing pain to the brittle bones.

"Please," she repeated, a little louder this time, struggling to control her voice and lift her gaze from the stained carpet. "Let me... let me come to you."

Bull tilted his head as a gentle smile stretched his lips. There she was, his fiery redhead. The strongest damned woman he had ever met, battling her own fears just as she had battled demons - relentlessly, at all cost.

"Can do," he told her simply, making sure that his voice carried all the pride and all the tender affection he felt for her at that very moment.

She still did not dare to look up, however. Stepping around the spilled cocoa, gaze fixed at her bare feet as she carefully put one in front of the other, Evelyn approached, stopping close enough for him to enjoy the unmistakable smell of her lavender soap.

His gaze ravenous, the warrior stared at her, counting all the faded freckles on her nose, wincing at the sight of an ugly scar on her cheekbone that wasn't there the last time he had been so intimately close. It took considerable effort to merely stand there instead of pulling her into a protective embrace, pressing her against his chest to kiss those quivering lips sore and taste the cocoa from her tongue...

A soft, broken sob made him refocus on the spot, just in time to notice a tear rolling down her cheek and dripping to the floor between them. While he fantasized, she kept fighting her own battle, hands fidgety, restlessly plucking at the gown in one moment, only to attempt to reach out to him in the next... and failing. Her breaths were ragged and heavy now, he could almost hear the frantic pounding of the heart against her ribs, but she kept herself standing in place, right in front of him, right within his reach, despite every single muscle in her body demanding that she ran. If only she looked up to truly see him! He would let her read him like an open children's book, large print, simple illustrations, all that crap - no deception, no hidden meanings, no teasing, even. Just plain, bare truth of it, damnit. He would let her see all of his devotion to her, all the joy her very existence brought him, all the--

"I'm sorry... Bull... I'm so sorry." Once she managed to speak his name, the dam broke. Evelyn embraced herself and, swaying back and forth, let the words flow in a stuttering rhythm of gasps and swallowed sobs. "I can't... I can't be with you the way you want me... I love you... Maker knows that you are the best man I have ever met... the only one I ever wanted to be with... and I tried... for weeks now I've tried to explain to myself that it's you, that you would never... that... but... I wake up screaming when my feet tangle into the sheets, I panic if my arm catches in the sleeve when I get dressed... it's too much... I can't..."

It took Bull a long while to recover from shock and process the information. He stood there like a dumbstruck kid, unable to comprehend why she insisted to be the one feeling guilty of anything and, most of all, why she thought that having her bound and moaning was the only way he could possibly enjoy her company.

A delightfully hazy memory of the first time they made sweet tender love brought a spark of frustration to his eye. The day she offered him the dragon tooth was a turning point for both of them. In that moment, whatever had been between them before, gained the depth of a relationship. After that, sex stopped being simply a means to an end, a favor for the boss. It wasn't just a release for the tension of leadership for her or a tickle for his own fancies, not anymore.

How could she forget all that? How could she think he would be the one rejecting her if she had the very same memory as proof? He wasn't just that dominating force storming over her body in an excruciating wave of craving, he could be so much more for her and, damn it, she should have known it!

Taking his extended silence for agreement, Evelyn nodded to herself and dried her cheeks with the back of a trembling hand. "I'm broken... I won't be able to make you happy ever again... I'm so... shit, I can't even look you in the eyes now."

"Stop," he told her firmly, his commanding voice freezing her on the spot the moment she tried to step away. Curling around herself, she stood there as ordered. Waiting for punishment, Bull realized. "You _can_ look me in the eyes," he added in a softer tone, reaching out to hold her steady, but pulling back when she flinched even before he could touch her. "Just let me make it easier for you."

It was difficult to fold the creaky joints and the braced leg into obedience, but he managed. Dropping to his knees in front of her, Bull shifted a little closer, so that he could look up at her from below, allowing their eyes to meet at last.

"You make me happy by just being around, _kadan_." He offered his frightened mage a gentle smile while trying to ignore the shooting pain in his knee. "And if you ever want to be in my arms again, I will be a soft blanket that you can wrap yourself in to keep warm and safe. All right?"

For a single heartbeat she did not move, her green eyes staring in wide disbelief. When the panicked tightness around her lips had gradually smoothed out into the tiniest smile, Evelyn slumped to the floor, letting herself fall straight into his embrace. There was a brief moment of struggle when her body instinctively fought against his arms, but she did not pull away, clinging to him instead. A tender kiss on her forehead, and a shy caress of his callused hand over her bristly hair helped chase the last of the fears away. Before he knew it, the heady taste of cocoa made the Iron Bull feel whole again.

***

THE END


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